“Good,” the officer muttered, sliding my receipt across the counter. “Because the talk around here is that he and the woman he was caught with were… intimate when we busted them.”
The words slammed into me, but I refused to let the officer see me flinch. Instead, I nodded, grabbed my receipt, and walked out, my head high. Inside, I was burning.
The cool evening air hit me as I stepped outside, but it did nothing to quell the fire raging in my chest. Jason and Leslie were nowhere in sight, the taillights of my car disappearing down the street. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I stood on the curb, completely alone.
I flagged down a cab, sinking into the worn leather seat as I gave the driver an address. Not home. Not the station. The hospital.
The envelope still sat in my lap, the edges crumpled from my grip. I stared at it, the weight of its contents suddenly unbearable.
I pulled out my phone and called a number. The clinic receptionist answered after two rings. “Women’s Health Center. How can I assist you?”
I swallowed hard, the words tasting like ash. “I need to schedule an abortion,” I said as tears blurred my eyes.